


A Better Boyfriend

by Measured



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These days, most of his conversation devolved into about how his girlfriend was the best. Though it all went a whole lot better when Medic wasn't around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Better Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Multiversecafe for the betaing.

Scout had spent most of his life in one endless cycle of punching up and trying to not be the runt of the family or workplace. It didn't matter what it was, his was the best. Now it was so ingrained that he'd even argue with Demoman that American beer was better, and only some of it was trying to get Soldier riled up and join in on the fight.

As the youngest of so many brothers, he knew how to get people into fights, and then make them take the rap when ma found out. Of course, it'd gotten him plenty of punches to the ribs, from both his brothers and Soldier. 

Still, it was well worth the bruises, and occasional glares he got from Miss Pauling when she found out, just for that first hint of glee of finally putting one over them.

But that little taste of glory from winning wasn't enough. Sometimes he just had to share that not only was he a pretty amazing guy, he was dating the cutest, most perfect girl in the world. And given that it was him, sometimes meant always. He was just that giving a guy.

Soldier and Demoman were usually in the living room, playing cards, blowing up things until it looked even more like a war zone than before. This time, it was just cards without the blowing up, thankfully. He'd gotten entirely too good at dodging grenades. Something in the past he would've thought he'd never have to say, but here he was.

He leaned right into the middle of Soldier and Demoman's poker game across that table which had everything from beer stains to punch marks that matched Heavy's fist on it. Everyone acted line interrupting was a dirty word, when they should've been listening to what he had to say in the first place.

"So, I heard you talkin' about liftin'? Yeah, Miss Pauling? She lifts a _ton_. I can't lift as much as she could, and see these muscles?" Scout showed off the biceps he'd been working on. Piss off Soldier enough and he'd get a free training session. The broken bones could always be fixed, but the muscles and experience would last a lifetime.

Plus, if he was lucky, he might even get Miss Pauling to kiss his bandages.

Demoman let out a long sigh and shook his head.

"Aye, here we go again," Demoman said.

Soldier slammed his fist on the table, displacing mismatched poker chips from many different casinos, and well as empty beer cans. Demoman lifted up his drink before it could go flying. His red helmet tipped down his face. He didn't bother pushing it back up. Scout moved just outside of grabbing distance, a trick he'd learned about the fifth time he'd gotten his neck snapped. Being friends with Soldier was always giving him new broken bones to be mended.

"Matchsticks, you're on risky ground here. Zhanna can suplex a _bear_. Saying she isn't the best is _unpatriotic_ and grounds for me declaring war on your ass with my _boot_!"

Scout couldn't help but sneer at this. "Bear scmear! Anybody can just punch a bear. Miss Pauling could put a gun in that bear's hand and give it a job shooting nine other much less handsome bears. Also, that bear runs fast," Scout said.

"That bear is about to get turned into _Bear Claw Ice cream---_ "

Through it all, he hadn't seen Medic come in. Only when he heard the sound of Medic clearing his throat that they all looked back. He was covered in more blood than usual, with white bird feathers stuck to his jacket. Just the sight of Medic made Soldier stop, and salute. He still hadn't gotten the message that Medic was German.

Medic smiled, and man, could the guy make something simple like that creepy. He hadn't looked like that since Scout had told him he still had his tonsils, and kidneys intact.

"I couldn't help but overhear," Medic began. "And, is that all? Just a little _bear_ Does she even have a PHD?" 

"Yeah, uh...."

Technically, he was still trying to get on first name basis with her. He was sure after some point of dating he'd be able to stop hitting that _Sorry Scout, that's classified_ wall, but she would tell him one of these days. He just had to be patient.

"Yeah, of course. Like I don't know how _many_. Probably tons and tons of those PHD things. Probably gives them away party favors," Scout said.

Demoman shook his head again, muttering something Scout couldn't quite get, but he was pretty sure was aimed at him.

"Do you even know what a PHD _is_?" Medic said.

"Yeah, I got a PHD in kickin' ass, wanna see?" Scout said. 

Medic rolled his eyes at this. He'd never taken any of Scout's threats seriously. Then again, he hung around a guy who could pull Scout apart at the seams for fun. It kind of put the dampers of Scout's threats of knuckle sandwiches when Heavy could give out all you can eat knuckle buffets.

"A mere PHD?" Demoman took a drink and shook his head. "If Engie ever dates any, we're goin' to be kicked to the curb. Good thing the only thing he fucks is robots."

"Haha, take that, you robot fucker! Because of that, Miss Pauling wins!"

Medic laughed, as if Scout had said something so very hilarious. Come to think of it, he never did that when Scout was actually telling jokes.

"Oh, ja, you're _something._ Such flights of fancies. Your Miss Pauling, can she punch out a train?"

Soldier crushed his beer can in his fist. He did the same thing when he was losing a hand of poker, which was pretty often, given that he had an even worse poker face than Scout did.

Scout's mind whirled as he tried to think of some way to one up Medic. He couldn't lose like this, not when Miss Pauling was obviously not just the best around, but the best girlfriend ever. One of these days he was going to steal one of Soldier's bottle caps and give her a medal. Or maybe he'd just take one off some stiff. Put some glitter on it or something. Chicks dug glitter, right?

"She....well---she...damn," Scout said.

Which was usually what he thought of her, and how he described her to anyone in a ten mile radius who would listen, and many more who wouldn't, but this time it was different. It left a bitter taste, the thought that someone else could be one-upping on _Miss Pauling_ , the best girl in the world _who happened to be dating him_. Their combined awesomeness was probably illegal in most states.

"That's right. There's only one person here could punch out a train _and_ carry the entire team. On a daily basis, no less," Medic said. 

He looked so damn smug with himself. Scout struggled for a way to wipe that smug grin off his face. The seconds drew on, Medic's victory in sight, when a thought suddenly came to him.

"Hey now, if Miss Pauling wasn't so busy cleanin' up the fuck ups we make, she totally would grab a gun and kick ass. She'd kick the entire BLU team to the curb---not that it's hard, but still," Scout said.

"I meant literally carry the team. At once. While punching a train."

The image was so epic that Soldier dropped his can, and Scout was too awed by the mental image to point out that to do all that, Heavy would probably need eight arms. Maybe if Engineer donated a Dr. Octopus get up, he could do it with style.

"I think it's obvious who the winner is," Medic said. And none of them could say anything to that, enough though Scout sure as hell tried. Medic whistled as he went out. Even if he wasn't wearing a medal, he'd taken home the biggest prize of all: The best girlfriend or boyfriend prize.

Scout slumped down in the nearby broken-down chair. Sure, his team losing could put him down, but Miss Pauling losing? He couldn't even imagine someone beating her in the best girlfriend department.

Even if she did have a habit of canceling their dates, and the only dates he ever got was helping her work, and she hadn't told him her name yet, it didn't matter. She was the best around.

Thinking back, this whole thing had started with an intervention. Ages ago, Medic and Heavy had been secret, or at least telling themselves that. Until the day where they spread out the intervention banner, where the team informed them that screaming love declarations to each other on the battlefield wasn't exactly Spy grade stealthy. Not much had changed, except now they didn't bother to put do not disturb things when they were fucking in public, and now Medic had to go and try and win all the best girlfriend contests, when everyone knew Miss Pauling deserved all the awards, even if she probably hadn't punched any bears. That he knew about, anyways.

"Yae know this means he'll be fuckin' in your bed, right?" Demoman said.

" _What_?" Scout said. He twisted in his chair, nearly falling over in shock. 

"That's the ancient rules of the Best Lover duel. Ancient Scottish tradition. Like takin' tributes of heads, but with beds," Demoman said.

Soldier slammed his drink on the table. Except he hadn't noticed that during the time Medic had been there, Demoman had finished his drink. The now empty can was crushed under the force of his thick fingers. "I'll have him know that Lt. Bites already decimated my cardboard box and the trash cans I took shelter in, and my room is filled with his family. They'll have to fight an army of raccoons to get to my room, and Lt. Bites has been trained as a true American Soldier! " Soldier said.

Demoman nodded. "Then you'll be safe. Medic can't stand raccoons. Afraid they'll eat his birds. Well, laddie boy, looks like you'll be sleeping on the curb after they're done breakin' your bed," Demoman said.

"Well, that won't happen, because I'll be in _Miss Pauling's bed!_ " 

"Iffen she _lets_ you," Demoman said.

"If she lets me," Scout said. He crossed his arms over his chest, stubborn as ever.

Sure, she killed people for a living and then disposed of their body in truly horrific ways that still gave him nightmares and kind of turned him on in ways he didn't even want to think of, but she wasn't cruel.

At least, not that cruel.


End file.
